REVISED,NEW CONTENT ADDED. Devon is an enigma. Clay is his teacher and is undeniably attracted to him. It is not just his looks, because Devon may hold a secret to the survival of his entire race. Slash/Mpreg

Clay's
mind was whirling.
What the hell was going on? He walked into the council fully
intending to announce he had a guest and his guest was seriously
injured, thus unable to present himself. That he would bring the boy
here at a future date to drop this problem in the council's lap.

He
didn't expect for all five of them to smell his scent on him and
from the appreciative sniffs the other Ad'ns took when he walked
in, he knew even they could smell Devon on him.

He
didn't understand. He hardly touched the boy. How did the boy
managed to saturate himself on him that much that other could smell
him that clearly.

And
why did everyone smell Devon differently?

"Who
is he?" Elder Larren took charge, as was his right as the Eldest.

Elder
Masith waved an Ad'n over with a chair. "Let's all sit. We have
much to talk about."

Clay
slumped into a chair, his head full of questions he couldn't even
articulate. Just what was going on? The Five pounced on him, plying
him with questions from him when all he wanted was answers.

"He's
Carlorian?" Elder Thomas pressed.

Clay
shrugged. "I... I think so. His brother definitely was."

"Was?"
Elder Tuou repeated sharply.

"He...
was killed," Clay said, his head bowed and regret staining his
voice deeply.

There
was a sharp gasp resonation around the room. It was horrifying to
lose a member of their community when one was so young and their
numbers dwindling so fast.

"He
was... he was an Ultimate," Clay choked out, unable to stop the
tears from gathering in his eyes. He was so close, so very close. But
that damn Devon had to ruin his only wish. His one wish to have a
family.

"An
Ultimate like yourself?" Elder Masith guessed hopefully. It was
obvious to Clay he didn't want to think of any other alternative.

Clay
raised his head and gave Masith a sharp glare with his cold amber
eyes. "He was an Ultimate to match me. He had violet eyes," he
enunciated clearly.

The
tomblike silence was back. The entire room was choking with a sense
of loss.

Clay
knew exactly how they felt. After all, Declan would have been his
mate. No one would have refuted his claim. Instead, they would
rejoice at the strength of their children and the strength of the
blood returned to them.

He
felt all the Ad'n's hackles rising at this. This was no trivial
matter. It was the duty of the Ad'n to protect the Ch'm. For a
Ch'm to die protecting the protector, it was a sin beyond anything
in their society.

"We
must call him to be judged and punished," Larren decreed.

"Wait,"
Masith said. "Hold, Larren." He looked down at Clay. "You say
he is a lost member?"

Clay
nodded tightly.

"And
that he had no knowledge of who he is or what our society is?"
Masith continued.

Clay
nodded again.

"He's
a child?"

"He's
fourteen or fifteen," Clay explained. "So yes, still very much a
child."

"And
you blame him for killing his own brother?" Masith's voice rose
with reproach.

Clay
and the other cringed. Elder Masith was a Ch'm of great patience
unless riled. It was extremely difficult to get Masith's temper
stirring but it was clear to everyone that Clay had done the almost
impossible.

"We
cannot blame someone who is ignorant of who and what he is. We cannot
blame someone for taking away a dream he knew nothing of," Masith
laid Clay bare with his hot glare, causing the young Ad'n to shrink
away in shame.

Masith
took a deep breath and addressed his other Four. "What we need to
discuss and find out is, why we have a Carlorian who doesn't smell
like one, and makes us smell our fondest wishes?"

"And
who might he parents be," Larren offered, to a silent room.

Now
that was a million credit question.

XXxxXX

Clay
left the manor with a headache and feeling like he was five years
old. No one could make him feel insignificant faster than Elder
Masith. It could be due to the fact that Masith was his grandpapa.
His parents had left him with Masith at a young age, wanting to see
the world and what it had to offer. They were somewhere halfway
across the earth right now, sending Clay random letters but was never
around when he truly needed them. Since Masith was the source of why
he would have needed their comfort, Clay didn't want his grandpapa
around either. In essence, Clay had always been an orphan of sorts,
preferring to live his own life and do things his own way. It had
worked well thus far.

Right
now, he was raring for a fight. It was because of that idiot Devon,
that stupid boy he got a dressing down in front of the Council of
Elders yet again. It was because of him that he was ordered
to take him under his wing and to teach him the fundamentals of being
Carlorian until more could be investigated of his background.

Since
there were no reported missing Carlorians, the Elders were going to
look into the possibility of it being a 'lost one'. While rare,
it wasn't impossible for lost ones to return to being attracted to
Carlorians once again, if the novelty of living like a 'normal
human' had wore off. It just might be the case with Devon's
parents.

He
slammed into his apartment feeling surly and out of sorts only to be
met by an angry glare of mother hen Justin.

"He's
sleeping, softer please," Justin hissed, clearly not happy.

I
don't care if he is sleeping,
wake him up for all I care,
was what Clay wanted to say but judging by Justin's mood, it just
wasn't the time to mess with a Ch'm, who could be more vicious
than a fully enraged Ad'n.

Michael
emerged from the room that was now Devon's and indicated with a
tilt of his head that they should go to the living room.

"Well?"
Justin asked when they were all settled. It was clear he was keeping
an ear out of Devon, just in case he woke up.

Just
what was this boy made of that made everyone so protective of him?
Even Clay on occasion, but he would never admit to it.

"What
does the boy..." Clay started.

"Devon,"
Michael corrected irritably.

"What
does the
boy..."
Clay stressed belligerently. "...Smell like to you?"

Justin
tilted his head. "That's an odd question."

"Humour
me."

Michael
stared into space, tapping a finger against his lips thoughtfully.

"Like
a newborn baby," Justin said.

"Precisely,"
Michael agreed.

Clay
found his jaw hanging. This was the first time he had someone agree
on what Devon smelled like.

"Why?"
Michael asked, frowning in confusion. Doesn't he smell like that to
you?"

Justin
exchanged a pained glance with his mate, reaching out to clasp their
hands together. "We want to have a baby, to start a family."

Michael
pulled Justin close, and kissed him comfortingly, allowing his mate
who was radiating pain, to snuggle against him. "We will, my love,
we will have children."

Children,
babies... The thought clicked in Clay's mind.

"He
smells like dreams, he smells of desires," Clay exploded.

"I
do
not desire
him," Michael announced, appalled.

Clay
shook his head, frustrated that he was unable to make himself
clearer. "No, no... not desire... desires... he smells of what you
wished most in the world, or if you have nothing that you wish for,
your fondest memories. He smelled like Elder Tuou's bearer, like
sunset to Elder Vincent and like peace and security to Elder Thomas."

His
friends were now stunned. "How can that be possible?" Justin
gasped.

Devon
sat under the shady tree on top of a lone hill. It was one of those
clichéd scenes he expected to see in movies or read in books. Come
on, just how easy was it to find a lone hill with a lone tree right
on the top of it? Apparently, golden man and his friends could find
one quite easily. Especially when the land around it was apparently
owned by them... or someone they knew... or something.

They
were an odd bunch, with a lot of secrets and some terms that were
being thrown around that he couldn't exactly comprehend. They also
acted oddly around him. Clay, that golden one from his dreams, was
absolutely furious whenever Declan was brought up. Whenever he
brought Declan up. It was as if Clay blamed him for Declan's death
or something. Sure, he felt guilty his brother was dead, but it
wasn't as if he wouldn't switch places with Declan in a
heartbeat. It was completely unfair and part of him hated Clay for
making him feel like a heel.

But
he had to admit that they found a perfect place to put Declan. He
took a deep breath and smiled when the wound in his side didn't
pull. He was almost healed, Michael had assured him but he could have
told Michael that. He healed fast anyway.

"Where...
where is my brother?" Devon asked once he was well enough to walk
five steps without anyone's aid.

Justin
smiled sadly at him. "We'll take you there."

So,
back to the hill and the tree. They put Declan in a spot where there
was nothing but green, green grass and clean, clean air as far as the
eye can see. Devon's lips twisted in a bittersweet smile. It was a
place where Declan and him would dream about, would talk about. They
lived in a cramp, filth infested city and places like these were
nothing more than a fantasy. But it felt good that his brother would
be here, in this place forever more.

"I'm
well," he whispered, lying on the ground. He could almost
feel his brother's presence vibrating in the ground underneath him.
"I am doing well now. They are treating me well, except... well,
except that idiot."

Would
you hit me if I said I think you like him?
Declan's teasing tone seemed to whisper over the soft rustle of the
grass.

Devon
chuckled. "If you were alive, yes." He got up and brushed the
dirt and grass off his pants. "Thank you for saving my life."

You're
my brother, stupid. We help each other no matter what.

"Yeah,"
Devon agreed, smiling softly. "Never forget I love you."

So
do I, brother dear.

It
was hard stepping away from that hill when each step he took him
further and further away from his brother's presence. The arms he
could almost feel hugging him slowly pulled back and disappeared with
the soft blowing of the wind.

The
sad nostalgic smile turned into something more genuine when he saw
Justin and Michael waiting for him at the car. He suppressed a
chuckle when he saw the two of them pawing at each other. If there
was a flat space, they would be pressed up against it or lying on it,
or doing something or other to each other that wasn't suitable for
the consumption of minors. Even if they were both men, they were the
most loving couple he had ever seen. There was only one memory he had
of someone who surpassed them and even then, he wasn't sure if it
was a memory or a hazy dream. He thought his parents were just as
gooey as Justin and Michael.